Maron Learns To Drive
by RobotKat
Summary: Just as the title says. A really short "Assemble Insert" fan fiction.


I know it's a bad idea to write a fan fiction for a super-obscure parody anime like _Assemble Insert_, but I've wanted to write something like this for a long time now. Maron and Chief Hattori are my favorite characters, but Hattori hardly gets enough insight into his character. He's only shown as a grouchy, emotionally-unstable, chain-smoking bastard and I think I over-embellished him in this drabble. So, let's see if this fails or if it doesn't, shall we...?

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"Nothin' to worry about. Nothin' to worry about. Nothin' to worry about. Nothin' to worry about. Nothin' to worry about. Nothin' to worry about..." By the twentieth time he mumbled this phrase to himself, Hattori begun to doubt if his own self-security were enough to keep him from an emotional breakdown.

Chief Hattori stood out in the parking lot behind the Ohru Video Rental outlet, leaning on his car. His "men" were not far from him; the four former Special Operations guys were in a small cluster, standing in the doorway that lead to either the video store lobby or the stairwell. The four were emersed in an argument over whether there was a red-light camera on Mushiro Street, or was it Kantou Str..._oh to hell with it_, Hattori thought to himself. He knew that Yuuki was obviously itching to talk about something creepy, like Kagiri Sonoba's latest measurements, or Maron being closer to the legal age of consent. Hattori would have loved to run over and hit him in the head as a precaution, but he stayed standing. There were other things on his mind.

He was going to take Maron driving.

And, of course, every fiber of his being was drenched in _fear_.

_But why,_ Hattori asked himself. It bothered him intensely. It was _he_ who was once a private inspector, then the leader of the Anti-Demon Seed team! He'd faced convicts, robotic power suits, perverts and thieves! He was a thirty-five year old man! Why was he getting so scared about a young girl in a car?

_It wasn't my fault,_ Hattori consoled himself, _that I got chosen. Maron's mom is working overtime, Maron's sister is in Osaka, I'm the only person on this block who can act __**normally**__ with a little girl in the car..._

He took the ever-perenial cigarette from his mouth, dropped it on the pavement, and crushed it harder than usual. His stomach was in a knot.

And behold, Maron walked around the corner of the video outlet, looking around nervously. When her vision focused on the car, she skittered forward, waving a cloth bag that had some cartoon character emblazoned on it. Hattori straightened his posture and put on a hopeful smile, trying to not look like he was about to faint.

The guys abandoned their conversation and went to surround Maron, asking about her school day. She was now in 10th grade, and it had been a slick year and-a-half since the fall of the Demon Seed. Maron was still as docile as she was before, but now she'd made a few friends at school, as opposed to only the Special Operations men being her companions.

Hattori waved lightly at Maron, hoping for her to find a way out of the crowd. She did soon enough, but was blocked by Shouji, whom was trying to ask when she passed her learner's license.

"Guys, come on!" Hattori shouted out. "Give her a break with the questions!"

The men froze, and Maron hurried around them, apologizing. She got to the car and bowed. "G...good afternoon, Chief."

"Yes it is. Now come on, let's get to the road." Hattori went to the passenger's door as Maron redirected to the opposite.

Hattori waved to the men, calling out "We'll be back in half an hour! Don't burn the office down!"

The guys shouted back as Hattori fully entered the car. He glanced over at Maron, whom had gripped the steering wheel and was now staring emptily at the dashboard. Hattori stared hopelessly at her small, tightned hands.

"Um, Maron--"

"My license?" Maron paused, then took the small card out of her bag, holding it out proudly to Hattori. He glanced at it, nodding.

"All right, legal. Now let's start the car."

"Start the...?"

"Car."

"R-right."

Maron's hands shakily went to the ignition, turning the key after some struggle. The car begun to purr in anticipation, and Maron managed to move it somewhat forward.

"We won't last on the highway at 10 kilometres an hour."

"J-just let me warm up," Maron said, staring intently at a signpost. Soon enough, the speed evolved into a 20, and the car paused at the parking lot exit. After a moment of no opposing cars, Maron turned left and went up the road in a somewhat more normal speed.

Hattori sat back, looking tiredly at the road. "All right, let's try taking the next left..."

"Where are we going?"

"The Mutsuhara parking lot, how 'bout."

"Isn't that too far away?" Maron was now turning left, albeit slowly.

"It's far enough to be a good enough test," Hattori said dismissively. He felt sleepy now.

He was, however, amazed by how well Maron could handle the car, considering her age. After a pause, he asked, "So you took a driving class?"

"It was mandatory for us."

Hattori nodded absentmindedly.

"Um, Chief...?" Maron said, her voice a little stronger. "When did _you_ get your license?"

Hattori had to think deeply about it. "I...think...I was a bit older than you. I was pretty stupid when I drove, so I had to-- MARON!"

His arm swung forward with a point. Just ahead of them was a young boy whom stood dazedly in the road, clutching a baseball. Maron nailed the brakes on reflex, and the car ground to a halt. The boy walked back to the sidewalk, staring and smirking.

Incensed, Hattori leaned out of his window and yelled at the boy, "You little snot-faced--! What in the hell are you doing standing in the str--"

"Chief, get back in the car," Maron sighed. Hattori complied, sheepish. After a moment, Maron went back to driving.

"Um, anyway..." Hattori rushed to continue the story. "Well, I failed my first road test."

"Oh." Maron was now on the high roads, not listening to Hattori. "What do I take now? All these people are in the way..."

"Turn at the bookstore on the right."

"Right!"

"Yes, right."

"No, I meant..." Maron paused, then turned the car gracefully into the new stretch of road.

Hattori found himself impressed. "Hey, you're pretty good at this! That's better than I can do."

The two suddenly found themselves in the midst of a traffic jam.

Maron was now locked in between two other cars. She stared mourningly, then tightened her grip on the steering wheel. The band of plastic and steel begun to crack within her fists.

"Maron, don't break the steering wheel. I'm gonna need that later."

"I-I'm not trying to!" She worriedly held up her hands, and as she did, little pieces of the rubber wheel coating chipped off. Hattori sighed and leaned against his door.

"Maron, what have I said about controlling your strength...?"

"I couldn't help it," She moaned.

Hattori searched his mind for something to say to calm her down. He inhaled, then turned to her with something new.

"Maron..." He begun, "...The car is the one place that you'll need to forget your strength. Here, you need to set aside your true talent, let it run through your hands anew, and turn it into elegant driving! Do you understand?"

He was met with a confused stare.

"I...I think so," Maron said, turning back to the dashboard. The car moved forward several metres, then cut down an alley.

"All right, good," Hattori nodded. "We're almost there. Do you want ice cream?"

"What?"

"Ice cream. There's a thing at the Mitsuhara lot."

"I, um, don't know." Maron was busy watching a pigeon flap across the street. "Maybe."

The pigeon survived, and soon enough, the gates of the Mitsuhara lot came into focus. Hattori remembered the day he discovered the place; just a parking lot surrounded by shops and a metal fence. He had first gone there to catch some kid who was setting things on fire behind the gas station. He considered regalling this story to Maron, but stopped after realizing she wouldn't find the whole thing as funny as he and the other officers did.

When Hattori tuned back into reality, Maron had the car parked and shut off, and was staring at him. He moved back a little in surprise, but relaxed.

"Um, Chief?" Maron said uneasily, pulling out the keys. "I'm going to go look at the book vendor."

"Uh...? Oh, all right," he said dismissively, heading out of the car. Maron went in the other direction, heading for a little tent named 'Juun no Hon', the entrance of which was crawling with children. Hattori decided not to watch Maron's attempt to get through them, and he turned away, giving her a little privacy. He dug through his jacket pocket for a cigarette, hoping to calm his nerves through the security it would bring.

What always seemed to happen when he smoked, was that time advanced much quicker. It was usually to his advantage...he couldn't count the number of days he had wasted in the Special Operations office, and he probably would have ended up choking one of his comrades without a little "support". At this point in his life, Hattori figured either cancer was going to get him, or a lunatic in an alley would. At least cancer gave you a little dignity.

Hattori glanced back at the book tent. Maron was buying something; obviously, she had survived the kids. And then...well, he didn't find a lot of things "cute" in his lifetime, but a small girl tugged on Maron's sleeve, said something, and Maron hurriedly did an autograph. The kids started chattering loudly, and Maron moved out of the crowd, waving.

She was soon at the car. Hattori nodded at her. "Were those fans?"

"Oh. There was a girl named Mieko, and her sister had one of my albums." Maron went to her door, waving a bag full of two books. "I bought some things."

Ashamedly, he didn't care. "I see."

Hattori was a little disturbed by his own lack of conversation. When Maron was an idol, they had plenty to talk about. Of course, that was when he was moonlighting as Maron's manager-come-bodyguard; nowadays, he appeared to be either Maron's father or a sex offender.

And then they were back in the car. After Maron put her seatbelt on, her hands went to the ignition and turned the key. She slowly turned the car around and drifted towards the Mitsuhara lot's gate.

"Very good," Hattori listed. "Very smooth turning."

Maron looked over at Hattori. "Um, about your driving class, when you were my age...what happened?"

"I never finished that, huh?" He took his eyes off the gate. "Well, the point where I screwed up was when I ran through a pothole and broke one of the suspensions. Of course, it was only the instructor's car, but he made me take the class again next ye--"

Suddenly, there came a shrill, hawk-like squeal of metal against plastic. Maron hit the brakes and shut off the car, getting out to look at something on her side of the car. Her eyes went wide, and she kneeled down, studying something. Hattori, still in the car, sat up and tried to see over the hood, hoping to see what was wrong.

"Maron? Everything okay out there?"

"Y-yes? I-I mean, this c-could easily be f-fixed..."

There were quite a few stupid things Hattori remembered doing in his life...smoking nine cigarettes at once on a dare, that night in Shinjuku, most of the things he did at parties...a new entry to this catalogue was getting out of the car to look. And immediately, he felt like he was going to be sick.

"MY CAR!"

Dancing across the blue body paint was a thin white scratch, obviously done by a decorative metal spike jabbing out from the gate. Either the car was too close or the spike was too damned unnecessary. Maron looked like she was going to cry, and Hattori would have done the same if not for his self-thickened pride. He pushed his sunglasses up.

"W...well, it's..." He ran his hand over the scratch. "It's not _too_...deep. I could probably fix it..."

"I'm sorry!" Maron's voice was warbling. "I-I can pay for the repairs!"

Hattori moved away from the scratch. "No, I...can pretend I got it while chasing someone on the job...and the police department'll cover it." One lie was going to fix many a wound, he thought. Had it been one of his men that scratched the car, Hattori would have spend a good five minutes screaming at him. But doing that to Maron...well, people got arrested for doing the former. He had to break up crap like that sometimes.

"Maron, let's go home. I'll get it fixed soon enough." Hattori got back in his seat, now noticing his legs felt like they were full of air. Maron weakly got back into the driver's seat, started the car and led it graze up the road.

"Y'know, you're not a bad driver, Maron," Hattori said, leaning against his door.

"I-I am?"

"Yeah," He nodded, unsure which one of them he was trying to cheer up. "That scratch isnlt your fault, now that I'm thinkin' of it. I blame the gates. Nobody needs spikes on a damn gate, anyway."

Maron looked to the side briefly and smiled. She brought the car around the corner, heading up the road carefully. Hattori looked out his window and begun to recite his explanation to the Head Committee over how he got the car scratched. _See, I was...er...on Tsuji street when someone drove by with a stuffed garbage bag in the back seat. Yeah, that'll work. I drove after him, brushed by a...a dying shrub, and it turned out the bag was only full of old clothes... _

"Chief?"

He looked up. "Hnn?"

"I don't think I wanna drive when I'm an adult," Maron said softly. "I'd rather use the train or a bicycle."

"You do that if you want," Hattori replied. "You'll save a lot of money that you would've blown on gas...but you may get groped on the train."

"That's not funny, Chief."

"Is it?" He granted himself a nervous smirk. Far behind them now was the Mitsuhara lot, and Hattori's mind was now drifting back to the office. The scratch would be fixed, he knew. Maron looked calmer than before. She turned the corner, and both occupants were pleased to see that the high roads weren't as crowded as before. As the car coasted up to the queue of cars, Hattori begun to recite in his head, _Nothin' to worry about. Nothin' to worry about. Nothin' to worry about..._


End file.
